


Left, Right

by Noodlesyo



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff and Angst, Gen, He Is Falsehood, PTSD, Virgil Has A Stutter, Virgil Is Sad Because He Thinks He Has No Friends, and Remus - Freeform, but thats a given, implied dukeceit, lowkey moxiety but they didn't really get together so i didn't tag it, rated for swearing and some depictions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noodlesyo/pseuds/Noodlesyo
Summary: To tell the full and honest truth, Virgil was scared out of his mind.Scared of Logan, with his facts and knowledge and obsession with an incredibly specific jelly brand just because they shared a middle nameScared of Remus, with his wild insanity and unhinged sense of control.Scared of D.C and Roman and Patton.Of Patton, with his big eyes and freckles and warm hugs and round glasses and how he always smelled like cinnamon and chocolate and his smile and--Left foot, right foot. Keep walking. Don’t look back. Left, right.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Everyone, Platonic DLAMPR
Comments: 11
Kudos: 107
Collections: Sanders Sides Secret Santa 2019





	Left, Right

“I cannot _believe,”_ D.C practically hissed the words through his teeth, “the _nerve_ of that woman.”

Virgil hummed in vague agreement as he attempted to fit his many books into his bag. He could practically feel D.C vibrating with fury beside him, gnashing and muttering indignantly. Virgil vaguely knew what he was talking about, something about Freud being a, quote, ‘bitchbaby pedophile’, but he hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to know what they were talking about.

Virgil looked up when Logan’s familiar footsteps tapped up to them, sharper than ever before.

“I am astounded that someone like that could ever be given a degree in teaching.” 

D.C practically rounded on Logan, nearly screeching in furious agreement. Virgil just sighed and tuned them out, focusing on unceremoniously wrestling with his things.

“Oh shit, what happened this time? Did your philosophy teacher insult Diogenes again?” Roman Prince snickered, clearly amused at the sight of their two normally composed friends flailing and yelling.

“Hm.” Virgil shook his head, his grumbling and shoving suddenly more agitated at the new arrival. He and Roman had never really gotten along all that well, with snippy comments and pointed nicknames practically being their trademark. Virgil tried to steer clear of the Prince family, since they all acted as if they bathed in some kind of illegal energy drink mixed with approximately all of the drugs. The day that he saw Remus get bitten by a dog and retaliate by biting the dog back was the day that he resolved to keep at least twenty feet of emotional distance from their entire clan.

He abruptly realized that Roman was looking at him expectantly, obviously still waiting on an answer.

“Uh, the, uh. The teacher. Said something about… uh, Freud. Or something.” Ew, gross, stuttering. Curse his traitorous anxiety and Roman’s terrifying spontaneity both. 

Roman, however, just hummed and skipped over to bother the other two.

Virgil grimaced and finally shoved his books into his bag, falling into step with the others.

It took almost five minutes of indignant ranting for the four of them to make it to the school gates, meeting up with a feral Remus and a pained-looking Patton. The moment that he finally caught sight of them, Patton’s face lit up and he bounced toward them-- _it’s just to get away from Remus, obviously_ , Virgil thought, squishing down the shining ray of hope that threatened to make him feel emotions. _It’s not because you’re here, obviously. Why would anyone be happy that you’re here? You’re_ you _\--_

“Hi, Virgil! Oh, wow, are you alright? You look kinda tired.”

Virgil glanced to his left to avoid Patton’s concerned eyes.

“I always look tired. Tweedle dee, tweedle dum, and tweedle dumber over here decided to keep yabbering the whole way here.” He jabbed his thumb towards D.C, Logan, and Roman while the other hand worried at some lint in his hoodie pocket. Silently, Virgil applauded himself for not stuttering his tongue off. It was rare that he could get through a sentence without a stutter when Patton was around. For no reason at all, no, why would he be nervous around Patton? Patton, the least threatening person on earth, who couldn’t have scared a kitten with his big brown eyes and dark skin and even darker freckles and curly, soft-looking hair. Absolutely no reason to be nervous, none at all.

“Hey, be nice,” Patton weaseled, lightly elbowing Virgil in the ribs. Still, he giggled, and Virgil internally fist-bumped himself. All six of them, the chaotic group they were, fell into rows of two, breaking into smaller conversations as they split crowds like the Red Sea and dodged around various books scattered on the ground.

Their group was by no means popular. Sure, Roman was the star of everything he’d ever done and Logan tutored pretty much every single member of every single sports team in the school, but Virgil, a sad loner, and Patton, a puppy in human form, weren’t exactly the most popular people around. No, Virgil was pretty sure that crowds split solely because Remus was rabid, Logan was savage, and D.C was terrifying. When the three of them were in one group, most people steered clear. Even Virgil had steered clear of the others for more than a year before D.C had discovered him in their shared philosophy elective and dragged him kicking and screaming to the others.

At the rusted, ridiculously goth-looking gate, the perpetual question was asked. “Hey Virgil,” D.C said, turning to him, “Do you want to come with us to the cafe?”

And, like he did every day, Virgil rolled his eyes and said no. Every. Single. Day.

#######

Honestly, it was mostly routine at this point. Say no, turn, and walk away. Left foot, right foot. D.C, or Patton, or once even Roman would ask him to join them. Left foot, right foot. Virgil would say no, and would leave, and would _not look back, no, he won’t_. At first, it was because his mom was expecting him home, and then it was because tonight was sushi night with his parents, and then it was because it looked like it was gonna rain, and then it was because someone needed to feed the dog.

Virgil didn’t even _have_ a dog. 

But now, everyone thought that he had a three-year-old chow chow named Bailey, and they thought that his mom was really strict, and they thought all of these things that made Virgil cringe whenever he thought of the ridiculous spiral of lies that he had created. Left foot, right foot.

To tell the full and honest truth, Virgil was scared out of his mind.

Scared of Logan, with his facts and knowledge and obsession with an incredibly specific jelly brand _just because_ they shared a middle name

Scared of Remus, with his wild insanity and unhinged sense of control.

Scared of D.C and Roman and Patton.

Of Patton, with his big eyes and freckles and warm hugs and round glasses and how he always smelled like cinnamon and chocolate and his smile and--

Left foot, right foot. Keep walking. Don’t look back. Left, right.

He was scared that nothing would ever be the same anymore.

He couldn’t go with Roman, to the community theater. He couldn’t go with Logan, tutoring and learning and sitting at the library surrounded by waves of knowledge. He couldn’t go with Remus or Patton or D.C, seated in a cafe, surrounded by the smell of coffee and scattered books and notes and a total lack of studying.

He couldn't, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

Left, right, left, right. Two big dogs eyed him as he passed. Left, right. A teenager slipped into an alleyway to who-knows-where. Left, right. A bus rattled past him.

Danger, danger, everything was a risk. Gone were the rows of neat houses and whitewashed fences, cleanliness, order and high society, replaced by a fear-inducing hellscape. He edged around a smashed beer bottle. Left, right, just keep walking. 

His phone buzzed. He left it in his pocket. Left, right. His phone buzzed. A shop owner tried talking to him, telling him to come and buy something. Left, right. Buzz, buzz. He stopped at a crosswalk.

His phone buzzed, again and again, and again. Finally, carefully, he relented. He took his eyes off of his surroundings and slid the phone from his pocket.

**Eight texts from Roman For Fuck’s Sake Stop Changing The Chat Name**

**[3:42] Wroammin: I HAVE AN IDEA**

**[3:43] Short stop: Oh, no, what is it this time**

**[3:43] Short stop: WHY THE FUCK IS THAT MY NAME**

**[3:44] Wroammin: lmao shortie ANYWAY, you know how in ap english we’re supposed to au a Shakespeare play?**

**_Short Stop has changed their nickname to Hiss Hiss, Motherfucker_ **

**[3:45] [censored]: ROMEO AND JULIET SAW AU**

**[3:46] [censored]: ROMEO HAS TO SAW JULIET IN HALF**

**[3:47] Wroammin: what the fuck remus**

**[3:48] Logan C. Farrell: Please stop texting the group chat, I am attempting to complete a tutoring session! If you need to discuss personal projects, please do it in a private chat.**

The light turned, and Virgil stepped off the sidewalk. Left, right, left, right, D.C and Roman bickered about wizards. Left, right, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and saw Patton’s bright face, a selfie that he had taken on Virgil’s phone. Virgil smiled, his guard going down for the first time in the past hour. He picked up the call.

He never saw the car coming.

#######

  
  


Virgil woke up to a soft beeping. Steady, rhythmic, not too fast. Almost calming, in the way that rain or white noise was calming. The whole world felt like it was floating, foggy; like every edge had been softened into pure cloud. He opened his eyes, and for a moment he thought that maybe he was dead. White, white, white and so, so bright. He had to close his eyes after a few seconds just to fend off the light.

It was then that he registered exactly what the beeping was. A heart monitor.

The thought _didn’t_ hit him like a speeding train: it meandered through his mind like everything else did. Calm, lazy, vaguely cheerful. It never really hit him. He had no startling, abrupt reaction to it like he did to most life-altering things. He just went along the logical route, as if he was thinking about what to have for dinner. A heart monitor meant that he was in a hospital, which checked out with the all-white walls. Hm, he can’t feel his left leg, that probably has something to do about it. What could have happened? Maybe it had something to do with that car, that seems likely. Ah, well, more on that later. The room is very warm, and he’s covered with some kind of blanket. Sleeping sounded very good right about now…

_“Holy, shit, you’re awake!”_

Oh, Roman’s here, that’s odd. Maybe he’s visiting someone? Virgil wondered who it could be…

“Oh no, no, no, _no,_ you’re not falling asleep until we call a nurse,” Roman said, scrambling off of the chair that he had been perched in and pushing a button on a remote connected to Virgil’s bed. Virgil frowned, vaguely annoyed.

“Wha--” Virgil stopped, annoyed. His mouth was incredibly dry and felt thick, as if his tongue had fallen asleep. He smacked his lips together a few times before continuing. “What are yo--are you doing here?”

Wow, his voice was incredibly scratchy. The stutter was no surprise, but he vaguely wondered how long he’d been here.

Roman gave him a long, vaguely panicked look. “It’s my shift, duh.” He hesitated, wringing his fingers together in his lap. His phone buzzed, notifications from the group chat probably filing in, but he ignored them. “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”

“What? No,” Virgil said, propping himself up on his elbows. “Sh-Shift? What shift?”

Before Roman could answer, the world caught up to Virgil. Pain cannonballed through the fog and hit him like a sack of wet mice. His entire body ached with week-old contusions. He collapsed onto the bed with an aborted gasp.

He heard something--Roman talking, a door opening, but they all blended together underneath an overwhelming wave of _fear_.

 _What if it never stops what if I can never move what if this is forever now what have I done why did I do that--my leg oh shit_ **_my leg_ ** _what if I can't walk anymore what if I can ‘t move anymore what have I done what have I done what have I done-_

And even so, he couldn’t help but be glad for the fear.

It was oh so familiar.

#######

“We’ve been taking shifts watching you.”

Logan was here now, so that was better. Nothing hurt quite as much as the first day, and Virgil wasn’t actively having a panic attack, which was also a win.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly. "We didn't think you'd appreciate being here alone all this time, especially when you woke up," he said. His other hand, fiddling with a keychain-sized rubix cube, never quite stilled: solving it and shuffling it and solving it again.

Both the nurse and Roman had explained to him exactly what had happened. He had been at a crosswalk when someone ran a red light and clipped him as they passed. His right leg was broken in four places, six ribs had cracked, and his skin had ruptured in two areas. He had a massive friction burn that ran from his shoulder around to his back and down to his ankles. A concussion and possible lasting brain damage.

It was a miracle that he was even alive.

Virgil leaned back onto his pillows. For the past three days, his friends had been here nearly constantly. Roman and D.C. and, hell, even Remus willingly watched over him and didn't destroy anything.

Patton watched over him.

It was kind of absurd. 

Virgil honestly didn't think that he meant all that much to them. Sure, they went to class together and sat with each other at lunch, but for _Logan_ to skip class to watch him?

He hadn't thought that it was possible.

He still didn't really think that it was possible.

#######

Virgil was discharged from the hospital two weeks later with a pair of crutches, a surplus of bandages, and a bottle of painkillers. His parents swamped with work, they had arranged for all his friends-- _friends_ , that just sounded weird--to pick him up. And pick him up they did.

"YOU'RE FINALLY OUUUUUT!" Patton whooped the _second_ that Virgil stepped out of the ward. Virgil stumbled, still not used to his crutches, as Patton set off a confetti popper.

"Hi Pa--SHIT--" The ground rushed towards him as his crutch slipped on a puddle of water--just his luck.

He surely would've slammed face-first into the ground if Roman and D.C hadn't caught him. As it was, they got him by the arms and pulled him back up, letting him balance on his crutches again.

"Careful, Hot Topic, don't break your bones all over again," Roman chuckled. The moment he let go of Virgil, his hands grabbed at his Disney-themed lanyard and began twisting it around his fingers. Virgil glanced around. Logan had his rubix cube again, D.C was tapping his fingers together like an evil scientist like he did whenever someone mentioned a mongoose, and Remus was… eating an eraser. Alright. 

Everyone was so tense, fidgeting and bouncing and staring at him like he was about to crumble to dust before their very eyes.

"What?" Virgil asked, tightening his grip on the crutches as he glanced around. 

“What do you mean, what? You want to break all your bones in the most epic face-plant of all time?”

“No, I--” Virgil ducked his head a little, wishing that his arms were free to shove in his pockets and pull his hoodie tighter around him. “Why ar-are you guys all so tense?”

Dammit, his stupid fucking stutter was back. Son of a bitch.

“What do you mean? We’re not tense! We’re just soooo happy to see you back on your feet!” Patton laughed, in the same way he laughed when he was feeling especially bad and didn’t want anyone to know.

The way he laughed when he was lying.

He was an exceptionally bad liar.

“Look,” D.C said, resting his hand on Virgil’s shoulder for the slightest moment before dropping it by his side, “We’re all just a little tired. We stayed up studying; we’ll be fine. Let’s get going.”

Virgil didn’t believe him for a second.

#######

They had all carpooled to the hospital. 

Roman and D.C were the only ones who could drive, and Roman was the only one who could drive legally. The twins had gone to Patton’s house and picked up his family’s minivan, and they had gone around like a school bus full of rabid geese, picking up the others on their way.

It was a long drive, but Virgil got shotgun, so at least there was that. He stared out the window and counted the telephone poles, keeping his mind occupied and purposefully didn’t dwell on things.

 _It’s my fault that I got hit--_ nope.

 _What if Patton blames himself--_ nope.

 _What if they all hate me for inconveniencing them--_ no-oooo… oh. Oh no. What if--no. But maybe. Maybe they did hate him. Maybe they just felt obligated to come visit him...and what if they hadn’t taken shifts at the hospital, what if Roman just happened to be there and made the whole thing up, what if they didn’t really hate him, what if he messed everything up for real this time, what if, what if, _what if--_

“You okay, Virge?”

Virgil didn’t open his eyes. Roman. Roman was here. And everyone else, too. They were here. They came out all the way on a thirty-minute journey on a Saturday to the hospital. For _him_. 

Why?

“Virgil? You alright?” Roman sounded worried. _Worried._ Why? Virgil wasn’t in danger, right?

“Virgil? Do you think you can open your eyes?”

Slowly, Virgil nodded. For the moment, it was all that he could do. But he managed. Deep breaths, count _in-two-three-four_ and hold...and _out-six-seven-eight._ Repeat. Repeat. And open your eyes. 

Roman was looking at the road, but glanced at Virgil a few seconds after his eyes were open. He smiled and looked almost relieved. 

“Hey,” he said. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ll get through it.” He turned onto a residential street, and white picket fences flashed by. “To quote the illustrious Ben Platt, you _will_ be found. You’ll make it through.”

Roman smiled, and Virgil smiled back, and it was almost reassuring.

  
  


#######

“Alright, get off, ya bastards!”

Virgil chuckled weakly at Roman’s affectionate insulting of their two friends. Remus and D.C were both getting off at D.C’s house, and Virgil did _not_ want to know what they would be doing there, _no thank you_. 

The two had always been inseparable, but it was beyond Virgil how they both seemed completely aware of the tension between them and yet had never done anything about it.

After the two got off, it was only Virgil, Patton and Roman left in the van. Logan’s stop had been the first one, and they would drop off Patton’s van before going to Virgil’s house.

“So, how are you feeling?” Patton leaned forward from the backseat to rest his chin on the edge of Roman’s chair and look at Virgil. Virgil, for his part, just shrugged through the bandages.

“About as well as you would expect,” he said. “Leg hurts, back hurts, head hurts. Y’know. Ju-just a day in the life.”

And then Patton looked at him with those big brown eyes all watery and sorrowful, and Virgil had to look away. Nope. Not happening. He _refused_ to start blushing with Roman in the car, because Roman was a fucking bloodhound for gossip. No.

“I hope you feel better soon, I can’t imagine how awful that would be.”

“Yeah.” Oh, shit, that was really sharp. Was that too sharp? Did that sound passive-aggressive? Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck. “I mean, um, y-you just. Um. I-I didn’t mean--”

“It’s okay!” Patton blurted it a bit, waving his arms like a flustered anime character--not that Virgil watched anime, of course not. “I should’ve thought about how that would sound! Sorry!”

“It’s, uh. It’s okay,” Virgil said. And, fuck, now Roman was looking at him like that, shit.

“Okay, Patton, here’s your stop!” Roman practically sang. He pulled into the driveway and parked next to a shiny, red four-door. Before Virgil could try to get out on his own, Patton took his crutches and Roman opened the creaky door to the van like he was a butler letting some nameless celebrity out of a limo. Virgil glared at him, but muttered a halfhearted thanks and let Patton lead him to the passenger seat of the four-door.

#######

“Sooo,” Roman said, stretching out the vowel to an obnoxious length. “Patton.”

“You shut your mouth.”

Roman snickered at Virgil’s visceral reaction, bouncing in his seat as they left behind the whitewashed picket fences and entered the land of the beaten-down chain-links.

They were silent for a moment, which Virgil… wasn’t really all that glad for. This place was looking too familiar, and he would’ve welcomed a distraction. Any distraction. Right now. 

Left, right, left, right. Two big dogs. An unnamed teenager, a bus. Left, right. Danger, danger, danger. Left, right. A broken beer bottle. Left, right, a crosswalk. Left, right, a car. Left--

A car. 

A moving car.

It was still moving, still coming.

A crosswalk, a car. A car--it wasn’t stopping i _t_ _was_ ** _n’t stopping._ **

Someone was screaming. 

It was him. 

His eyes were screwed shut, but tears still poured out of them. They weren’t moving. Were they--were they dead? Did they crash? Is that why they stopped _are they dead--_

Someone was talking. 

(Virge, it’s okay. We’re safe. The car didn’t hit us. It’s okay, Virge, just breathe. Deep breaths)

But… they were stopped. Why did they stop if they weren’t hit, _were they hit?_

(I’m so sorry, I should never have gone down that road, _breathe, buddy, please_ )

Oh. It was Roman. He was talking and he was here--even through the sobs that wracked his entire body and made his leg sear with the movement, he could hear him.

_Four, seven, eight._

They’ll be okay.

#######

It was never easy. Driving by that place was always hell. Virgil cried and shook and curled into fetal position as best as he could with his cast. He panicked and froze and remembered. He always remembered.

But… the others helped. They carried his books and drove him home and reminded him to breathe whenever he forgot. And he healed, both physically and mentally. His leg stopped hurting every time he moved, his burns stopped bleeding and scabbing.

Slowly, slowly, he stopped being as… scared. He went out for study sessions, he walked with them to classes. He laughed and talked and really, really started living.

It was when he was sitting in Patton's living room, with Roman and D.C singing Hamilton on one side and Logan and Remus debating which deep-sea creature was the coolest on his other side, that it clicked.

He was happy.

Maybe for the first time in his life, he really, truly happy.

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it! My first public fanfiction!  
> Thank you to my beta ruh-roh-emer-has-an-account on Tumblr for finding my many grammar mistakes and thank you to the amazing skyofstardust and viclouis on Tumblr for putting the 2019 Secret Santas together!
> 
> This was made as a gift for goldteethandacurseforthistown on Tumblr, I hope you like it!


End file.
